


Blink Back to Let Me Know

by wallflowerchronicles



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Angst, Established Relationship, M/M, Medical Jargon, Phan Angst, Phandom Big Bang 2015, Trauma, fluffy flashbacks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-12
Updated: 2015-10-12
Packaged: 2018-04-24 04:47:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 17,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4906057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wallflowerchronicles/pseuds/wallflowerchronicles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the aftermath of a tragic accident, Dan finds himself in a coma. Unable to communicate with those around him, he struggles to piece together what has happened - the extent of his injuries, their potential impact on the rest of his life, and most importantly, what has happened to Phil. Dan becomes so obsessed with learning Phil’s fate that he neglects the choice that he must make about his own: whether to live or to die.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Please note that I have chosen not to use archive warnings in an effort to avoid spoilers.
> 
> **If you would like to see trigger warnings, hover here**
> 
> I would like to thank my wonderful beta [Anna (htmllibrary)](http://html-library.tumblr.com/). Your contributions improved this story so much and you were a joy to work with. 
> 
> Check out the [art](http://philslesters.tumblr.com/post/131045963364/art-for-thechroniclesofawallflowers-amazing-fic) for this fic by [Alex (philslesters)](http://philslesters.tumblr.com/)! Thank you so much for stepping in at the last minute with the art and for being a great mod leader.
> 
> Finally, I made a playlist for this story, which you can find [here](http://8tracks.com/wallflowerchronicles/blink-back-to-let-me-know).

_In the back of a car with you I stare into the sun,_

_Still not too old to die young,_

_But lovers hold on to everything,_

_And lovers hold on to anything_

            - Ellie Goulding, Figure 8

 

_September 2015_

 

“Good morning, Bear,” Phil said gently. Dan opened his eyes, but squinted at the bright light. Phil was sat next to him on the bed, already fully dressed and looking like a normal, functional human being.

Dan groaned at the thought of getting out of bed. He shut his eyes and buried his face in his pillow.

“Don’t give me that attitude,” Phil chided him. “You’re the one who asked me to make sure you didn’t sleep past 10:30.”

That was true. Dan did remember making that request the previous night. They had a meeting later that day across town, and Dan needed to work on some editing before then.

Cautiously, he blinked his eyes a few times to adjust to the daylight. The patch of sky that he could see through the window appeared cloudy and slightly grey. Phil had turned on all of the lights in the room, probably in an effort to make him wake up.

“Come on then,” encouraged Phil. He bent down and pulled the duvet away from Dan. “Get up, you sloth.”

“Hey, I move more than a sloth!”

“Barely,” Phil muttered melodramatically.

“Shut up,” Dan retorted as he sat up and rubbed his tired eyes.

After a quick shower and a change of clothes, Dan sat down at his iMac and began working. It had been nearly a month since he’d last uploaded to his main channel, and he needed to work on a new script. But before he could even start on that, he needed to edit their latest gaming video. Yesterday had marked one year since Dan and Phil had created their sim Dil. The landmark had nearly escaped their notice, but the fans had reminded them. They had rushed to film a celebratory video last night after their rehearsal, which Dan needed to edit today. Unfortunately, their meeting in the middle of the afternoon was interfering with his usual routine of procrastinating the day away and then rushing to upload by 4 AM. So he’d woken up early to begin editing now, but the video still probably wouldn’t go up until Saturday, two days after Dil’s birthday. The fans would _love_ that.

There was a small sea of emails to wade through, which briefly distracted Dan before he actually opened Final Cut. His life had been so busy lately. Convention season had just wrapped up about a month ago, and he and Phil had been rehearsing for their tour nearly every day this week.. But the month ahead would be even more chaotic, what with the book release and the beginning of the tour itself. He really needed to get as much work as he could done now while he had the chance.

Phil walked into the room a few moments later and placed a mug of coffee on Dan’s desk.

“Thanks,” said Dan.

“No problem. Do you want something to eat as well?”

“No, I’m not really hungry yet. I’ll grab something later.”

“Okay, let me know if you change your mind.”

A few hours passed, and Dan grabbed a granola bar from the stash in his desk because he was too lazy to move. He switched over to Photoshop and worked on a few graphics to add to the video.

“Are you ready to go? We need to leave soon,” Phil reminded him from the doorway.

He looked at the time and realized that Phil was right. Shit. The video was still not quite ready, and Dan was certainly not ready to leave the house. The editing would just have to wait until later that night. His hair was another story.

“Just give me five minutes,” Dan said, brushing past Phil and heading for the bathroom.

“Dan, we’re going to be late!” Phil called from the stairs probably ten minutes later.

“We’ll be fine,” Dan retorted. He wasn’t entirely happy with the outfit he’d thrown together earlier, but there was no way Phil would let him go back upstairs to change. No, the green and white patterned t-shirt and black jacket would have to do. His hair, however, he could fix. He leaned in closer to the bathroom mirror and did his best to straighten the last few slightly curled sections into submission.

“Dan!”

“Alright, alright,” conceded Dan. They really shouldn’t be late for their meeting, and Dan knew that his disregard for punctuality always made Phil anxious.

They descended the stairs at a rapid pace. Outside, Dan was surprised to see a black sedan parked directly in front of their building.

“I ordered us an Uber,” Phil explained. “We don’t have time to mess with the tube.”

“Do you think they’ll have food there? I’m hungry,” Dan said once they’d gotten into the car.

Phil glared at him, and Dan knew that he was thinking _why didn’t you eat something when I offered it to you?_

“I know, I should have eaten something before we left,” he acknowledged.

Phil glanced at his watch and looked out the window.

“We’ll still be there by three, I think,” Dan said.

“I hope so. We don't want to seem irresponsible right before starting the tour. Especially not when they could still cancel our plans for next year.”

Phil had a point. These people were more likely to be impressed by them being on time than by Dan’s hair being perfectly straight.

“I know, I’m sorry,” Dan offered. Phil nodded, then turned his attention to some app on his phone. He would probably never admit it, but Dan could tell that he was upset.

Dan hoped that his carelessness wouldn’t turn into an actual quarrel between them. He hated when they bickered about silly things like being late, or whose turn it was to clean the bathroom.

He bumped Phil’s knee with his own, which successfully got his boyfriend’s attention. Dan made an over-exaggerated pouting face. Phil smiled and elbowed Dan playfully in return.

When Phil’s left hand settled down onto the seat between them, Dan grabbed ahold of it with his right. He highly doubted that their middle-aged male driver knew who they were. Phil had returned his attention to his phone, but he squeezed Dan’s hand in acknowledgment.

The affectionate gesture left both of their dominant hands free, a lucky happenstance that they’d exploited frequently over the years. They fit together so well, like two pieces of a puzzle.

That was the last thought that ran through Dan’s head before the crash. The crushing of metal made a horrendously loud screeching noise. Glass shattered. The world turned upside down.

Dan’s head pounded like he’s been hit with a hammer. His eyelids felt heavy. He couldn’t stay awake.

Some time later, a bright light flashed overhead. Dan’s eyes flickered open in response, but he couldn’t hardly keep them open.

There was another loud noise, but this one was more familiar. It was a siren, the same sound that interrupted his filming day after day. But it was louder than he’d ever heard before, and this wasn’t some game to play during a live show.

“Hello, can you hear me? What’s your name?” a male voice asked.

Dan could hear him, but he couldn’t seem to open his mouth to reply.

“Unresponsive,” said the man. “I’ve got a pulse, but his breathing is shallow and irregular. I need a C-collar and a backboard.” 

He tried desperately to look over at Phil, but he couldn’t turn his head. Dan also tried to squeeze his right hand, where Phil’s hand had been not long before. But his fingers stubbornly refused to obey his brain.

Dan felt incredibly tired. He tried to keep his eyes open, hoping for a glimpse of Phil. Eventually, the fatigue became too much. Dan blinked his eyes closed, and could not force them open again.

Another noise. This time a quiet, rhythmic beep filled Dan’s ears. He somehow knew that a lot of time had passed, but he still could not open his eyes. There was also another sound, a sort of whooshing noise followed by two clicks. Where was he? Where was Phil?

“Hello, Daniel,” a soft woman’s voice said to him. Her accent sounded native to the London area, and her tone was kind and motherly. “My name is Maggie, and I’ll be your nurse for the night.”

 _This must be the hospital, then_ , Dan thought.

“Don’t worry, I know that you can’t answer me back right now,” Maggie continued. “But I talk to all of my patients. They say that coma patients are sometimes aware of what’s said to them. If you can hear me, I imagine it would be rather lonely if I didn’t talk to you, wouldn’t it, Daniel?”

The word ‘coma’ scared Dan. He didn’t know exactly what it meant, but he knew that it was serious, and that sometimes people stayed in a coma for years, or even for the rest of their lives..

“I bet someone your age is probably called Dan rather than Daniel, but that’s what it says on your chart. I quite like the name Daniel. If you don’t, then you’ll just have to wake up and tell me to stop being a silly old woman.”

Maggie was starting to remind him of his grandmother.

“You poor thing, your head must hurt something awful,” said Maggie. It still did, now that she’d mentioned it. “They drilled a hole to relieve the pressure, and I’ve just started your morphine drip, so that should help.”

 _They_ drilled a hole _? What does that mean, exactly? A hole in my_ skull _?_ _No wonder my head hurts,_ Dan reasoned.

“I’m sure you’ve had a bit of a hectic day, but you should be able to get some rest now.”

Dan tried once more to open his eyes. If he could somehow manage that, maybe he could make Maggie understand that he needed to know where Phil was. She seemed nice enough, and he was sure that she would help him find out if only he could tell her what he needed to know.

“I’ll be back to check on you again in a bit,” said Maggie.

 _No, please don’t go_ , Dan thought. _I need your help. I have to find Phil. I need to know that he’s okay._

Maybe if he focused very hard on opening his eyes or twitching his fingers, he would be able to wake up. He concentrated all of his thoughts on flexing his left index finger. He was determined to make something happen. But his efforts were to no avail.

“Hello again,” said Maggie’s voice sometime later. Dan heard several beeps as she adjusted something on the machine to the left of his bed. The regular beeps returned, and the whooshing noise continued. Dan realized that whooshing and the clicking that followed it seemed to coincide with his breathing. The machine was breathing for him.

That notion was shocking, but it made sense. How could he breathe on his own if he couldn’t move or open his eyes?

“Everything looks good,” Maggie commented. “You’re doing well, Daniel.”

How could he be doing well when he couldn’t even breathe without a machine to help him stay alive? Maybe she meant that the pressure on his brain was decreasing and that he would be able to wake up soon.

“I do wonder whether or not you can hear me. I’ve had some patients that said they could and others that couldn’t. I’ve asked the neurologists about it several times, but I don’t think anyone really knows why some can and others can’t.”

 _But I_ can _hear you; that has to be a good sign, right?_

“Oh my, it’s already past midnight!” said Maggie. “I should stop talking your ear off and let you get some rest.”

_If only she knew that this is nowhere near my normal bedtime…_

Dan again tried to concentrate on waking up so that he could ask about Phil. But then again, did he want to wake up only to hear an answer that he could not accept?

_No, Phil has to be okay._

He wished that Maggie would come back and talk to him again. At least their one-sided conversation was something to occupy his mind.

Occasionally, he heard people continue to shuffle in and out of his room, but none of them spoke to them. He eventually stopped paying attention. Maybe he fell asleep. Except that he was already asleep. It was all very confusing.

“Good morning,” announced Maggie at an hour that was unmistakably _not_ something that Dan would have recognized as ‘morning’. “The neurology team will be here soon on their rounds. I’m sure they’ll order some more tests and such for you to see how your brain is getting on.”

She fussed with the machines again for a few minutes. Dan heard a group of people approaching, and Maggie stepped into the hall to meet them. The doctors never even came into his room to see him. Why would they, though, when he couldn’t speak with them?

Maggie returned sometime later, this time pushing a cart of some sort and followed by another person.

“Daniel, this is Jessica, she’s taking over for me on the day shift.”

“Hello,” was all Jessica said in greeting. The one word wasn’t much to go on, but she sounded younger than Maggie, maybe in her twenties or thirties.

This was followed by a series of clicking noises that sounded like typing.

“Mr. Howell was involved in a car accident  yesterday,” Maggie said to Jessica. “He’s got a closed cranial fracture, and I see they’ve ordered another CT and an EEG for this morning. They drilled a bur hole last night, but they decided not to put a drain in just yet. His right clavicle is also fractured along with three ribs on the right side, and he has a few lacerations on his arms.”

 _My collarbone is broken?_ That explained why his right arm was lying across his chest. It was probably in a sling. He did feel an ache down the right side of his torso, but he hadn’t noticed it before because it was nothing compared to the pounding in his head.

Maggie continued to talk about his medications, and how frequently the bandages on him arms needed to be changed. Dan tuned most of it out. He didn’t want to think about just how helpless he was at the moment.

“I’m headed home now, Daniel,” Maggie said to him. “But I’ll be back tonight, so I’ll see you then. Maybe you’ll be awake and we can have a proper chat,” she suggested.

The room was quiet again once she had gone. Jessica didn’t seem very talkative, so Dan’s hopes that she might mention Phil were slim.

Maybe Phil would be allowed to come visit him now that it was daytime. Of course, Dan realized that if he had been hurt badly enough to end up in a coma, Phil was probably injured in the crash as well. But maybe he hadn’t been badly hurt. Maybe they were able to patch him up in A&E and he would be here to see Dan soon. Then again, maybe Phil was somewhere else in the hospital. It was impossible to guess.

A man came into the room a bit later to perform the EEG test to measure Dan’s brain waves. He introduced himself as Ranjiv and encouraged Dan to think hard. “This is what the doctors look at to see if you’re still in there,” he said as he affixed the sensors all over Dan’s head.

Dan tried his best to picture the previous morning when Phil had woken him up and he’s been totally grumpy about it. _Was that really only yesterday?_ He thought about the still unfinished video he’d been editing, and wondered how long it might be before he had the chance to finish it now. Phil had been so angry about running late. If Dan had paid more attention to the time or simply not cared so much about his stupid hair, then Phil wouldn’t have been so annoyed with him. If they’d left the house on time, they would have taken the underground rather than an Uber.

_Oh god, this is all my fault. We shouldn’t have even been in that car._

It was a terrible thought, but it was true. Wherever Phil was, whatever had happened to him, it was all Dan’s fault.

“Okay, that’s it,” said Ranjiv. “I’m not supposed to say anything about the results because the doc is supposed to be the one to interpret them, but you won’t tell anyone, right? This looks great, clearly lots of brain activity. That’s a very good sign.”

Dan was relieved, of course, because the doctors and nurses would know for sure that he was still alive and thinking. But he couldn’t help but also think that, in a way, he deserved what had happened to him. He’d been stupid and selfish, and he’d dragged Phil into a life-threatening situation because of it. He just hoped that whenever he was, Phil was alright. Or at the very least - did he dare even think that he might not be - alive.


	2. Chapter 2

After the EEG, someone wheeled Dan to another part of the hospital for his second CT scan. The overhead lights flashed through his eyelids as he rolled beneath them. It was a slightly nauseating sensation, being moved without being able to see where he was going. He’d made this trip to radiology the day before, apparently, but he still had no memory of his first several hours in the hospital.

Dan did remember having a CT scan once before, but that was in 2010 when he’d had his appendix removed. He recalled that the contract dye they’d used had made him feel incredibly warm for a few minutes. But this time, there was no extreme warmth. Maybe that was because of the coma, or maybe they weren’t using the dye this time. The radiology technician hadn’t spoken to him, so he wasn’t sure.

The scan was long, and there was nothing to listen to except the humming of the CT machine. Dan let his mind wander. The memory of the warmth from the contrast dye reminded him of one particularly warm day in the summer of 2012.

The day they moved to London was one of the hottest days of the year. The heat coupled with carrying heavy boxes up multiple flights of stairs had left both Dan and Phil exhausted and sweaty. It didn’t help, of course, that neither of them had really done any exercise for at least a year.

The moving van had departed, and the final boxes had been carried up the stairs, but  the true battle had only just begun. There were mountains of boxes to be unpacked, as well as newly purchased Ikea furniture that required assembly. The heat was stifling, and the challenge seemed overwhelming.

Dan examined the stack of boxes labeled ‘kitchen’. He needed water, but wasn’t yet desperate enough to attempt drinking directly from the tap.He couldn’t remember which box contained their glasses. He opened one at random, and happened to find a few coffee mugs nestled among their kitchen towels and oven mitts. They would do for the time being.

“Phil, do you want some water?” Dan called out, unsure of what room Phil was in at the time.

“Yes, please!” was the response from the level below. Dan wondered what Phil was doing in the bathroom while he filled the two mugs and plodded down the stairs.

The sight that greeted his eyes was unexpected to say the least. Evidently, Phil’s idea of how to cool off had been to strip down to his boxers and lay spread out like a starfish on the bathroom floor.

“You lazy oaf, I thought you were unpacking!”

“It’s too hot to move,” Phil declared. Dan wasn’t sure if he meant that it was too hot to continue moving his body, or that it was too hot to be moving house on such a day. Both were true enough. He sat down on the floor, leaned his back against the empty cabinet beneath the sink, and placed Phil mug of water near his head. “Thanks,” Phil added, sitting up to take a drink.

Dan placed his hand on the floor, and found that it did feel cool against his skin. Maybe Phil had the right idea.

It was only six o’clock, but they hadn’t really had much in the way of lunch, and had certainly burned enough calories that day to warrant an early dinner. Cooking was out of the question, so they decided to order a Chinese takeaway.

“They said it’ll be about 45 minutes,” Dan said after hanging up the phone. “Are you going to put some clothes back on and answer the door when the food gets here, or are you just going to lay there like a beached whale all night?”

Phil groaned in protest.

“Alright, then,” Dan acquiesced with a small laugh.

But when the door buzzed, Phil stood up quickly and reached for his t-shirt and jeans.

“You don’t have to do that, I don’t actually mind,” Dan said, a bit taken aback.

“No, it’s only fair. You called to order, and I know that you hate talking on the phone.” Which was true. Dan would have much preferred being able to order their food online rather than having to endure an awkward conversation with a stranger.

The bathroom really did seem to be the coolest room in the flat, so they decided that it was obviously the best place to eat their sesame chicken.

“Phil, are we insane for doing this?” Dan asked after a few moments of silence spent stuffing their mouths with fried rice. They’d already expended so much time, effort and money moving to to London, all in the hopes of being offered a radio show that was far from guaranteed..

“Maybe, but I don’t think that’s a bad thing,” Phil answered. “Sometimes you have to take risks, you know?”

Dan nodded. Starting his own Youtube channel, traveling to meet Phil for the first time and dropping out of university had all been gambles, but they’d paid off well. There was no reason to think this move would be any different. Even if the job with the BBC didn’t work out, something else was bound to, eventually.

Dan couldn’t imagine doing something so crazy alone, but Phil had a way of making any goal seem achievable.

The future was hazy at best, but it did look bright.

They had to wait until the end of the following week to have their internet service set up, so the days following the moving and unpacking were surprisingly productive.

Dan sat down to film one afternoon while Phil went out in search of some new bedding. He filmed the direct to camera portion of the video sat on the floor of the lounge, because his bedroom was still a bit of a mess. He’d come up with at least six ways that alcohol affects people's’ behavior, but The 5 Kinds of Drunk People just sounded like a much better title.

While setting up to film a sketch in the kitchen featuring the ‘emotional drunk’, he looked around for a snack and saw that they wouldn’t have enough milk for cereal the next morning.

He sent a text to Phil asking him to pick some up while he was out.

Phil returned just after Dan had finished filming the ‘tired drunk’ scene in the bathroom. 

“Any luck on the bedding quest?”

“No,” Phil replied dolefully. “I did get milk, though.” Phil put the milk in the fridge, and helped Dan lug the camera, tripod, and lights back up the stairs. “Oh, and I nearly died crossing the road,” Phil added as an afterthought.

“You _what_?”

“The traffic was stopped at a red light, so I went to cross. I was looking at my phone, because you’d texted me about the milk, and I didn’t that the traffic actually wasn’t stopped in the far lane. So this car zoomed past right in front of me. It was so close, Dan! If I had been a second sooner, or if they had been a second later…”

Phil acted like the incident was just another bizarre experience that he would probably make a video about later. But Dan didn’t see the humor.

“Phil, why would you look at your phone while crossing the road? That’s so dangerous! You really could have died!” Dan berated.

“I know. I’ll be more careful,” said Phil reassuringly. The incident had clearly scared him more than it had Phil, although Dan would never admit he held onto Phil a bit more tightly than usual as they slept that night.      

The ever-present beeping pulled Dan back to the present. He must have continued daydreaming throughout the scan and the journey back to his room. It was easy to do since he couldn’t open his eyes.

The door clicked open. “Right this way,” said a faint female voice from across the room. Dan couldn’t identify it, as it was quickly drowned out by another voice that was much louder and very familiar.

“Dan!” exclaimed his mum. “Oh god, Dan…”

_Surely she must know what’s happened to Phil. Please, please tell me where he is_ , Dan pleaded silently.

She sat down somewhere to his left, but didn’t say anything more for several minutes. Dan waited nervously for what she might say next. Through the beeping and whooshing, Dan thought he heard a sniffle. Perhaps it was just a figment of his imagination, because although she got angry and emotional at times, he couldn’t recall ever in his life seeing his mum cry. Until now, it seemed.

“They said that I should talk to you, that hearing a familiar voice might help,” his mum said, finally breaking the silence. “They also said that you might not wake up for hours or even days because of the pressure and the trauma, so I’m not sure how much good talking can really do.”

Dan did not enjoy hearing that he might be stuck in his coma for days. He’d assumed that if he just tried hard enough, he would be able to wake up at any time. But no, his brain needed time to heal. He supposed that that made sense.

“Your father is here too, in the waiting room. They’ll only let one person back at a time,” she explained. “I’m so sorry, Dan,” she added a few moments later, reaching forward to grab hold of his hand.

He braced himself for what was coming next, fearful that she was talking about Phil.

“I’m sorry that this happened.” She paused for a moment. “And I’m sorry that we don’t talk very often anymore. I’ve always blamed you for that, but I know that it’s just as much my fault as it is yours. I could have made more of an effort. I could have rang you more often instead of complaining that you hadn’t bothered to in so long.”

His mum had supported his decision to take a year out from University, but their falling out had begun the following summer when Dan told her he’d decided not to go back. It wasn’t that she wanted him to finish a law degree, necessarily, but she wanted him to have ‘something to fall back on’ if his ‘internet thing’ didn’t work out long-term.

She had a point, of course. Youtube wasn’t exactly the most stable career. But Dan had seen her opposition as an unjust effort to control his life.

“I want you to know that I’m very proud of you, Dan.”

Her words were shocking to Dan. He wanted to believe in her sincere tone of voice, but at the same time, he couldn’t help but wonder if she was only saying such things because of the circumstances.

She gave his hand a squeeze, and then let go.

“I had my doubts at first, you know that. But I know that you’ve done very well for yourself, and that you’re very talented.”

_Have you started watching my videos, mum? Or the radio show, maybe?_ Dan wondered. Perhaps her change of heart really had occurred before the accident.

“I hope that we’ll have the chance to make things right between us, and that maybe you’ll come home to visit more than once or twice a year. But Dan, you need to wake up.”

_I’m trying, damn it,_ he wanted to scream.

Dan wasn’t entirely surprised that his mum had failed to mention Phil. It wasn’t that his parents disapproved of Phil, but they barely knew him. Dan had invited Phil to stay at his house a few times in the early days of their relationship. There had been a slight awkwardness in the air, but if Dan’s parents had formed a negative opinion of Phil, they’d kept it to themselves.

His mum sat in silence for quite some time. Dan listened to the beeps of the monitor and the whooshing of his ventilator. But every so often, he would hear her shift in her chair.

The door opened. “Hello, I’m Camilla with physical therapy,” a feminine voice said. She sounded foreign, French or Italian, perhaps.

“Oh, hello,” his mum replied. “I’ll just step out for a bit, then.”

“There’s no need, ma’am, you are welcome to stay if you like.”

“No, no, that’s quite alright. I could use a bit of fresh air. I’ll come back later.”

His mother left, and Camilla began her work. She explained that she and the other physical therapists would be coming in several times a day to stretch his muscles. It would help prevent them from deteriorating while he did nothing but lay in bed all day.

_For years, I did nothing my lie on a sofa with my laptop all day, so…_

Dan’s thought was interrupted by another person entering his room.

“Jess, do you know who this guy is?” Camilla asked.

“What do you mean?”

“He looks familiar, but I can’t put my finger on it.”

“What, did you go on a date with him, or something?” asked Jessica, Dan’s nurse.

“No, nothing like that. It’s more like I’ve seen him somewhere. On TV, maybe?”

Dan wasn’t entirely surprised. With all of the different people that kept coming in and out of his room, some member of the hospital staff was bound to recognize him at some point.

“I have no idea,” said Jessica.

“I’m sure it’ll come to me eventually. I’ll see you later,” Camilla said to Jessica.

If Camilla did recognize him, maybe she would know about Phil as well. _Surely someone will think to tell me about him eventually._

“Hello again,” said Jessica, addressing Dan directly for the first time. She seemed much more friendly than she had early that morning with Maggie. Perhaps she’d just been tired. The sound of her footsteps was again accompanied by the sound of small wheels, as though she were pushing something in front of her. “It’s time to do another GCS assessment to measure how deep your coma is,” she explained. “Mr. Howell… Dan, I need you to try and open your eyes.”

He tried just as hard as he ever had to comply with her request, but couldn’t. It was incredibly frustrating.

“Okay, that’s alright,” She said. Jessica then grasped his left hand, just as his mother had earlier. “Please squeeze my hand if you can hear me.”

_I can hear you just fine, I just can’t bloody move!_

Jessica retracted her hand. Dan heard a small snapping sound, like the cap being pulled off of a pen. Them he felt a sharp, sudden pain in his arm. She’d poked him with something, and, incredibly, his arm had flinched in response. Apparently he couldn’t make his arm move, but it could move on its own when provoked.

“Good!” said Jessica. There were clicking sounds that must have been typing. Dan presumed that Jessica had brought a laptop with her, probably on some sort of cart. “That puts you up to a six. You were at a four when you were admitted last night.”

Dan wished that she would tell him exactly what those numbers meant, and what sort of score he had to reach before he would be able to wake up. He felt tired, and wondered how that could be when he wasn’t even really awake.

Dan looked about the room, but couldn’t seem to focus on any of the details. He was awake, and the breathing machine was gone. He couldn’t remember how or when that had happened, and for some reason, not remembering didn’t seem strange.

Phil was there, standing right in front of him in his teal short-sleeve button-up and black skinny jeans.

“Phil! You’re okay!” Dan said, beaming.

“I’m so sorry that I couldn’t come sooner.” Phil sat down in the chair on the left side of the bed and placed his hand over Dan’s. “They wouldn’t let me back to see you before you woke up. They limit it to family only, I guess.”

“Oh, that makes sense.” That sort of thing was why Phil wanted to get married. They might not need a piece of paper to prove that they loved each other, but they did need one to visit each other in intensive care, apparently. Dan had always presumed that they had plenty of time to worry about formalities later. Now, he wasn’t so sure.

“How are you feeling?” Phil asked.

“My head still hurts, but I’m much better now that I know you’re alright.”

“I'm so glad to see you awake again so soon. They told me that it might be a few days before you woke up. You had me very scared, Bear.”

“I know, I was scared, too,” said Dan. “They would tell me where you were or that you were okay. No one mentioned you at all! It was awful.”

“Well, I’m here now.”

“My mum was here earlier,” Dan mentioned.

“Yeah, I spoke to her in the waiting room.”

“Really? What was that like?”

Phil squeezed his hand gently, silently telling him that it didn’t matter.

“I love you,” said Phil.

“I love you, too,” replied Dan. He turned onto his side and placed his right hand over top of Phil’s.

He remembered suddenly that Maggie had mentioned his clavicle being broken early that morning. His arm was in a sling. He recalled the weight of it lying against his chest.

“Wait, what happened to my sling?” he asked aloud.

“What?” Phil asked, clearly confused.

“My arm was in a sling before. My nurse said that I’d broken my clavicle.”

He looked back at Phil, realizing for the first time that he was completely uninjured. How could they have been in the same car? By what miracle had Phil walked away without a scratch?

“Don’t worry about it, I’m sure it’s fine.” Phil smiled reassuringly, but Dan continued to panic. His heart raced, and he felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.

“Am I dreaming?” he asked, searching Phil’s face for a better explanation.

And suddenly, everything went black.

Dan wanted to cry, but couldn’t. He’d returned to his reality of incessant mechanical wheezing and electronic beeping. Phil wasn’t there. He never had been.

It was just a dream. Not a memory this time, but a fantasy.

“Hello, Daniel! I’m back for the night,” said Maggie. Her voice was comfortingly familiar.

“Has Daniel had any visitors today, do you know?” Maggie asked, sounding genuinely curious about Dan’s current social life.

“Yes, him mum stopped by for a bit,” Jessica replied.

“Oh, good.”

Maggie and Jessica continued with their change of shift report. The EEG and CT scan were discussed, as well as when Dan’s IV and catheter bags had last been changed. Finally, Jessica mentioned the change in his GCS score, and Maggie was overjoyed.

Jessica left to go home, and Maggie promptly launched into telling him about the latest hospital gossip.

“I saw the strangest thing while I was walking in tonight, Daniel. There was a cluster of teenage girls loitering about outside of the main entrance. They were very polite, I must say. They moved out of the way, and didn’t make a fuss. Just leaving flowers and balloons and little drawings and things. It was very strange, to say the least. And then when I came upstairs, one of the other nurses told me that those girls are here for _my_ patient! My heavens, imagine that!”

So someone _had_ recognized him. And they’d obviously informed the internet of their discovery.

“Stranger things have happened, I suppose, but it was quite a shock. My friend Melinda in housekeeping said that she’d heard from one of the respiratory therapy girls that you’re famous on the internet, or something. Or was it the radio? I can’t remember.”

_Yes, yes, whatever. But what about Phil? Please tell me that someone along the gossip train had mentioned Phil and that you know who he is and that I NEED TO KNOW WHAT HAPPENED TO HIM!_

“I’ll have to ask my granddaughters if they know who you are.”

And so Dan found himself hoping beyond hope, perhaps for the first time in his life, that at least one of Maggie’s granddaughters was a fan, and that she was also a fan of the shipping persuasion. Anything to inform this kind, old woman of the existence of his boyfriend.

_The world is so weird_ , Dan concluded. 


	3. Chapter 3

Maggie returned a short time later, but with no news of Phil. Either she hadn’t yet contacted her granddaughters, or they hadn’t known who Dan was. It was also entirely possible that Maggie had simply forgotten about Dan’s pseudo-celebrity status. To her, he was likely just another patient.

This time, Maggie had brought another nurse with her. “We need to change your sheets, Daniel,” Maggie explained. Dan couldn’t help but wonder how on earth they were going to manage that when he couldn’t move.

But the two women proved to be surprisingly strong. They rolled him onto one side, then the other, pulling away the old bed sheet and tucking down a new one as they went. For the first time, shooting pains from his broken ribs briefly overshadowed the constant, throbbing ache in his head.

Dan felt cool air against his bare skin, and realized that the hospital gown he was wearing was completely open in the back, doing nothing to cover his bare arse. All of the degrading things he’d done on the internet were nothing compared to the ‘baths’ and the scanty clothing that seemed to be an unquestioned part of being critically ill. Life as a coma patient had certainly given Dan a newfound humility, and a much greater respect for nurses.

In an effort to distract himself from what was happening, Dan turned his thoughts back to Phil.

It had been over 24 hours since he’d seen his boyfriend, and he still had no idea where he was or even if he was okay. Phil’s absence had left a gaping hole in Dan’s life, just as it always did whenever they were separated. It had only been one day, but Dan already missed him. He missed Phil’s smile that could light up a room, his silly jokes that always managed to cheer Dan up, and his level-headed reassurances that everything would work out in the end.

Dan then thought about the period at the beginning of their relationship when being apart was the norm. It was absurd how ardently he’d missed Phil when they couldn’t be together then, when being in love was still so new and exciting.

“I don’t want to go,” Dan complained once they’d entered the train station. Phil was going on holiday with his family soon, which meant that it would be several weeks before Dan would see him again.

“I know, I don’t want you to go, either,” Phil replied. He opened his arms for a hug, which Dan gladly accepted.

“I’ll miss you,” said Dan. Phil squeezed him a bit tighter, as if to say that he felt the same.

They did this every time that Dan had to leave, but it never got any easier.

“I love you,” Phil said quietly, almost in a whisper.

“I love you back,” Dan said as he pulled away. He thought about kissing Phil goodbye, but he knew that a public train station wasn’t the place for such a gesture. Besides, there had been many goodbye kisses at Phil’s house that morning, and the night before, for that matter.

Dan looked up at the curved glass ceiling that was crisscrossed by many small metal beams. The sky was gray, which seemed fitting. The red and silver train was still waiting at the platform, but it wouldn’t wait forever.

“Okay, I’ve got to go now. Bye!”

“Skype tonight?” Phil asked as Dan walked away.

“Yeah, sure,” Dan replied, trying to remain casual and mask his excitement.

Once he sat down aboard the train, Dan pulled the sleeves of his cardigan down over his knuckles, and leaned against the window. Long distance relationships sucked, but at least the view along the journey was enjoyable.

That night, Dan sat on his bed with his laptop and waited for Phil. It wasn’t long before the skype ringtone played out through his speakers.

“Hi,” Dan said when Phil appeared on his screen.

“Hi, how was the train?” Phil asked.

“It was okay. I was slightly productive. I wrote out a video script.”

“That’s good. I was slightly productive as well,” Phil announced.

“Yeah?”

“I edited the video we filmed. It’s already up on my channel, just private for now. But you can log in and have a look, if you like.”

“That was fast,” Dan commented. “I’ll watch it right now.”

They had decided to film another collab for Phil’s channel, similar to the first video they’d filmed together back in October. They answered fan-submitted questions, mostly bizarre would-you-rather’s, while being more than a bit silly.

Dan logged in to Phil’s account, found the most recent upload, and clicked play.

“Phil is not on fire 2,” he read. “A very original title.”

“I thought that maybe we could make it into a regular series,” Phil explained.

Dan blushed. It still baffled him that Phil had thought him worthy of being in his videos at all.

The video played on, Dan laughed at a few of the particularly funny bits, like when Phil accidentally said that he would eat his own feet in order to escape from prison. Phil smiled at Dan’s reaction.

“Phil Striker would be a sexy name,” Dan mentioned once he’d gotten to that part of the video.

“Maybe I should have it changed to that.”

Dan laughed at their artificially high-pitched voices during their Titanic reenactment. Phil said that he thought it would be cute. Dan blushed slightly, remembering how Phil had kissed him just after they’d filmed that scene. But of course, that bit hadn’t made it into the video.

What they still refused to agree on was whether or not the word ‘microwave’ was an onomatopoeia.

“I still don’t get why you kept going on about that,” Phil said. “Onomatopoeia’s are like ‘buzz’ or ‘roar’ or whatever. Not ‘microwave’.”

“But it is!” Dan insisted. Phil rolled him eyes.

“I’m looking this up on Wikipedia,” Phil declared. “Here we go, an onomatopoeia is a word that phonetically imitates, resembles, or suggests the source of the sound that it describes,” Phil read.

“Exactly, it suggests the source of the sound!” He was being silly, of course. Dan knew that ‘microwave’ wasn’t _really_ an onomatopoeia, but he loved seeing Phil get all flustered.

“But the word ‘microwave’ doesn’t describe the sound that a microwave makes.”

“Yes it does! Mi-cro-wave sounds the same as the RRR-rrr-RRR sound,” Dan explained.

“No it doesn’t!”

“Yes it does!” Dan repeated with a small laugh. Phil was clearly annoyed.

“I guess we’ll just have to see who the viewers agree with once I set the video to public,” Phil decided.

“And when will that be?” Dan asked, glad that Phil had given up and left their squabble at a stalemate.

“I don’t know. Probably after I get back from Florida.” Phil looked away for a moment, lost in thought. “You know what? We should film another video for your channel and put them up around the same time.”

“Yeah, we should do that,” Dan agreed. “Maybe I’ll call it Amazing Dan,” he joked.

“You should!” Phil’s eyes widened with excitement.

Dan laughed, and but decided that maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea. They continued talking about video ideas, as well as their plans for Dan’s next trip north.  Dan noticed Phil yawning a few times. It wasn’t terribly late, but then again, they hadn’t had much sleep the night before.

After a moment of silence, Phil asked, “what are you thinking?”

“That I’d much rather be there with you right now,” Dan admitted.

He’d never believed in fate or destiny or soul mates, but meeting Phil had forced him to rethink his convictions.

“I know,” said Phil. “But it won’t always be this way. Once you start uni, I’ll be living nearby, and you can come over whenever you want.”

“Does that include unlimited cuddles?”

“Yes, please,” Phil said, then yawned again.

Dan smiled, wishing that time would go a bit faster, just until his next trip to Manchester. It had only been about six months since they’d met in person, but Dan was already ridiculously in love. When he thought of happiness, he thought of curling up with Phil in his bed. When he thought about his hoped for the future, he didn’t think of going to uni or doing a law degree. No, he thought of making videos with Phil, and of maybe living together one day.

“You seem really tired, should we call it a night?” Dan asked.

“I think that’s probably a good idea.”

“Goodnight sleepyhead.”

“Goodnight Bear.”

Dan marveled at how much easier it was to say ‘goodnight’ than it was to say ‘goodbye’.

This time, Dan was pulled back to reality by the sound of the ventilator, continually breathing on his behalf. He could tell that there was already light peaking through the windows, and guessed that it was still early morning.

“It’s me again,” said Maggie as she walked through the door. “The doctors have already been by on rounds. Your neurologist said that he was impressed with your progress, and that you should be regaining consciousness any time now.”

That sounded like good news to Dan.

“I’ll be back again tonight, and it would really be lovely if you wake up by the time I get back. Can you try to work on that for me, Daniel?” she asked.

Underneath her normal cheery tone, Dan could tell that Maggie was slightly worried, which he didn’t understand. _Is she afraid that I won’t wake up? What happens then, exactly?_

“I’ve seen patients like you that wake up straight away and go on to do quite well, but I’ve also seen some who take their time in waking up for whatever reason,” Maggie explained. “There are also some who seem to be doing well, but they linger in their comas for a time, then they eventually crash or seize, and they don’t make it.”

So he could die. That possibility was still on the table. Dan hadn’t thought about that before.

“I can’t say which category you fall into, just like I have no idea if you can hear me when I talk to you. But you’re young and strong, and I have faith that you can hear me, and that you can wake up, if you want to.”

_That’s a very nice thing to say about someone you barely know_ , Dan thought.

“You see, Daniel, I believe that you have a say in whether you wake up or not, whether you live or die. It’s your choice, and I know that it can’t be an easy one, but it’s a choice that you have to make.”

At first, Dan couldn’t imagine why he wouldn’t want to wake up. He had an amazing life to return to. They would have to postpone the tour, and doing so would no doubt be a mess, but surely everyone would understand. He’d suffered a brain injury, after all.

_A brain injury_ , Dan thought. _That’s the sort of thing that some people never fully recover from._

Even if he could wake up, would he ever be able to function normally again? What if he couldn’t walk or talk or something? What if he’d never be able to go on tour, or even make videos ever again?

If that was the case, _did_ he want to wake up?

Maggie introduced him to his new nurse for the day shift. This time, his nurse was a man called Kyle. They spoke about Dan’s injuries and his medications, but as far as Dan could tell, nothing much had changed from the night before. After a few minutes, they left him alone with his thoughts.

Dan decided that of course he still wanted to wake up. _No matter what happens, I’ll still have Phil. We’ll get through it together._ It didn't matter if he couldn’t be a proper youtuber anymore, as long as he had Phil.

The hospital room’s regular beeps, clicks, and ventilator noises kept him company for a time, interrupted by a few brief visits from various hospital personnel.

Somewhere around midday, the door opened once more.

“Hi Dan!” exclaimed a high-pitched voice that Dan immediately recognized as his friend Louise. She crossed the room quickly, and Dan heard her pull the chair closer to the left side of his bed.

Dan was relieved. If anyone were going to bother telling him what had happened to Phil, it would probably be one of their friends.

“I came as soon as I could,” she added after sitting down. “I had to drop Darcy off with her dad before I could catch the train this morning. I only found out last night, on twitter, if you can believe it.”

Oh, he could.

“And they wouldn’t let me back here unless I was family, so I lied and told the lady at the desk that I’m your sister. So if anyone asks, just play along.”

He wondered if Louise realized how silly that sounded under the present circumstances.

“God, this is so strange, me blabbering on at you and you not laughing at me or telling me a joke to make me feel better. What am I even saying? I’m the one that’s supposed to be making _you_ feel better. Except that seeing you like this does make me feel incredibly sad. Probably because all of the tubes and machines remind me of when my mum was in hospital…”

Dan recalled that Louise had lost her mum at a rather young age. He could understand why being in a hospital would be unsettling for her.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be so depressing. That’s not right. Okay, let me think,” she paused, probably trying to think of something happy to talk about. “Oh, I know! This might cheer you up. I asked Darcy if she would draw something for you last night. I told her that you weren’t feeling well.”

Dan heard her unfold a piece of paper.

“She said that she drew our cats Zula and Rocket for you because they always make her feel better when she’s poorly. Isn’t that sweet? Although, I’m not sure why she’s drawn Rocket with a purple crayon. I’ll just leave this here for you, then,” she said, placing the drawing down behind her on what Dan thought might have been the window sil.

Dan wished that he could see the drawing. He was especially intrigued by the purple cat. _Phil would like that_ , he thought.

Louise paused for a moment, and then said, “I wish I knew how you’re feeling. And what you’re thinking about.”

_I’m thinking about Phil. And now also purple cats. But mostly Phil._

“I wonder if anyone’s told you about all of the fans outside. They’ve built a little memorial of sorts on the pavement with flowers and cards and things. I’m not sure if it’s nice of them or if it’s a bit creepy, really.”

He wasn’t sure, either. But he also wasn’t really surprised.

“Anyway, I tried to keep my distance, but a few of them did see me. They asked if you were really here and if I knew how you were doing. I didn’t tell them anything, of course. I really didn’t know anything myself, at the time.”

Certainly the fans would have also asked Louise about Phil. _Why have you not mentioned that? Why are you not talking about Phil_ atall?

“I know they’re going to ask again when I leave, and I don’t know what I’m going to say. I wish I knew what you would want me to say.”

Dan wasn’t sure about that himself. Did he want his subscribers knowing that he was in hospital? Not particularly. But they already knew. Were they owed some sort of update, then? He had no idea.

“I wish that you would wake up. Then I would know that you’re going to be okay, and you could tell me how to help you. You could tell me what to say about this on twitter. Because right now, I have no idea. And neither does anyone else, as far as I can tell. ”

_I don’t know that I can wake up until I know that Phil is okay._

But it was becoming increasingly apparent that, strictly speaking, Phil definitely was not _okay_. Dna had been in hospital for nearly 48 hours. If Phil had walked away from the accident with minimal injuries, he would have come to see him long ago. Louise had gotten around the ‘family only’ rule, and Phil would have too. And if Phil were in the hospital, but awake, he would have found a way to at least get a message to Dan. Or Louise would have gone to see him and asked him what to do about the fans outside on the pavement.

No, at this point there were only two possibilities. Either Phil was also gravely injured and unconscious in another part of the hospital, or… _Or_ _Phil is gone_.

That was the horrible outcome that Dan had been trying so hard not to think about for the last two days. But he couldn’t pretend anymore, after so much time had passed. It _was_ possible.

“I know that it will be difficult, but you have lots of people in your life that will be there to help you,” Louise said very sincerely. He wondered if she was talking about the difficulty of the physical recovery that he faced, or the difficulty of losing Phil.

“Please, please wake up soon,” Louise pleaded.

But Dan wasn’t sure that he wanted to anymore.


	4. Chapter 4

Something was happening. The monitors were alarming loudly. Dan felt himself lurch about, as if the room was shaking.

Several people rushed through the door. “He’s seizing,” one of them declared.

Dan realized that the room wasn’t shaking, he was.

“Okay, let’s start a loading dose of phenytoin, 15 milligrams per kilogram, infuse at 25 milligrams per minute,” ordered a male voice.

_This is definitely not good_ , Dan thought. He felt panic building in his stomach. Hadn’t Maggie warned him about seizures? She’d said that they might start happening if he didn’t decide to wake up soon.

The convulsions slowed, and then stopped. After a brief examination of his shoulder, the room gradually emptied, leaving Dan alone with his thoughts.

He knew that he would eventually have to make a decision. He just didn’t know how to go about it. How could he make the right decision when he still didn’t know what had happened to Phil?

Then he heard voices in the hallway.

“Ma’am, visitation in the ICU is restricted to family only,” a stern female voice said.

“I _am_ family,” protested a second female voice with a Lancashire accent.

“Immediate family,” the first voice clarified.

“Are you worried that he’s had too many visitors these last two days? Has he been overwhelmed by them all?” the Northern woman asked sarcastically. She sort of sounded like Phil’s mum. “No, I didn’t think so. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to see my son-in-law.”

It _was_ Phil’s mum. But what was she on about, calling him her son-in-law? Maybe it just didn’t sound as strange as ‘my son’s boyfriend’.

She entered the room and the door swung shut behind her. The scraping of chair legs to his left told him that she had taken the same seat that Louise had vacated earlier that day.

“Hi Dan,” Mrs. Lester said.

Dan wondered what exactly she was doing there. Had she come to the hospital specifically to see Dan, or was she already there because Phil was too? _Surely she’ll mention if Phil is here,_ he thought. _How could she not?_

“I hear you’re doing better today,” she continued with a gentle voice. “Although, the doctor that came to speak to us did say that you had a seizure a little while ago, and that was a bit worrisome.”

_Who is the ‘us’ that the doctor spoke to?_ _Could the ‘us’ possibly include Phil?_

“But he also said that you could still wake up at any time.”

Maybe a seizure wasn’t as bad as Maggie had led him to believe.

“It has been a difficult couple of days for all of us, and…” _Again with the ‘us’!_ “I guess I just want you to know that I understand if you’re a bit reluctant to wake up. I know that I would be, were I in your place.

“Sometimes it’s easier to let go than to face the challenges that lie ahead. But I also want you to know that you won’t have to face them alone. I’ve considered you a part of my family for many years now, and that’s never going to change, Dan.”

It was a touching sentiment, to be sure. The Lester’s had always welcomed him, even if Dan hadn’t felt that he really belonged. They were the sort of family that supported each other and truly enjoyed spending time together. That had been a foreign concept to Dan, and he always felt like a fish out of water in their home, despite their good intentions. No, it wasn’t until earlier that year that Phil had started to change Dan’s mind about truly being part of the family.

 

Dan and Phil were sat on the couch eating their dinner of teriyaki stir-fry. They’d filmed a video earlier that day to celebrate their gaming channel reaching 1 million subscribers.

“Ugh, it’s my turn to edit, isn’t?” Dan commented. Phil hummed in agreement while trying to stab a sugar snap pea pod with his fork. “Although, maybe we should make it a new rule that the loser of the gaming challenge has to edit the video,” Dan added.

“What? No! That’s not fair. That was not part of the deal,” Phil protested.

Dan laughed. He didn’t actually mind editing, but it was highly amusing to wind Phil up.

“I am not editing that video.”

“I know, I was just kidding.”

“You’re the worst,” Phil responded, followed by a rather dramatic pouting face. He always took their gaming challenges so seriously, and he hated losing. But even though Dan had agreed to a potentially redemptive all or nothing final round, Phil had still lost their game of Just Dance. “My head still hurts as well.”

“You’re the one who whacked yourself with the Wii remote!” There was no way that Dan could be blamed for that one. Phil rolled his eyes.

Dan balanced his now-empty bowl on the arm of the sofa and pulled out his phone to have a look through twitter. Phil continued to pick at his last few pesky vegetables, and Dan couldn’t help but wonder whether Phil was going to struggle with the chopsticks on their upcoming holiday to Tokyo.

After a few more minutes, Phil placed his bowl on the coffee table and grabbed his laptop. He turned to lay on the couch with his knees bent up to support the laptop and his head resting in Dan’s lap. Clearly he wasn’t actually annoyed about the editing comment.

“Oh, I was skyping with my mum earlier,” Phil mentioned a little while later, “and she mentioned that she and my dad will be in town the weekend after we get back from Japan.”

“Okay. I’ll remember to make myself scarce then,” Dan replied.

“That’s not what I meant, Dan.” Of course Phil would never ask Dan to leave his own home for a bit, but he understood if having him around for their entire visit might be awkward. Some people actually enjoyed spending time with their parents, and Phil was one of them.

“I know, but I’m sure you don’t want me intruding.”

“Actually, they would love it if you stuck around, and if you came to dinner with us. If you just generally wanted to spend more time with them.”

Dan questioned this theory with a raised eyebrow.

“I’m serious!” Phil insisted. “They like you. They’ve been asking for years if I’m ever going to bring you home with me for Christmas.”

The Lester’s were kind, lovely people, and Dan didn’t doubt their sincerity. But he still wasn’t sure that joining them for Christmas was really a good idea. “Do you really want me to come to your family gatherings?” he asked, a little skeptically.

“Yes! I'm tired of being the fifth wheel at the dinner table. And I’m tired of spending holidays without you.” Phil looked up at him with pleading eyes. He had a point. In their five and a half years of dating, they’d never spent Christmas together. It was a tragedy, really.

“Okay, but how would we explain that to the internet?” That was the real problem after all. Although, Dan’s own family, especially his grandma, might not be pleased with him spending Christmas away from them either.

“We wouldn’t have to say anything if you don’t want to,” Phil offered. “Look, why don’t you just spend some time with my parents when they’re here next month and we’ll see how it goes. We can worry about family trips and Christmas and what to post to twitter about it all later.”

It was a reasonable request, and Dan agreed to the plan.

During the course of the conversation, the back of Phil’s head has somehow moved further up Dan’s thigh. Dan wondered if that had been intentional.

“You’ve chosen an interesting spot to place your head, Phil,” he commented.

“Why, is it turning you on?” Phil asked, glancing up at Dan’s face. Dan raised his eyebrows and smirked. Phil laughed, and reached up to tickle his boyfriend’s stomach playfully.

“Stop it!” Dan insisted between bouts of laughter. “Oh, you are in for it!” he declared.

Phil’s strategy was inherently flawed, of course, because he was actually much more ticklish than Dan. After swatting Phil’s hands out of the way, Dan leaned forward and tickled his sides. Phil shrieked and nearly fell off the couch in his effort to recoil from the attack.

Dan laughed, thinking that he’d won. But Phil squirmed just out of reach, then somehow managed to straddle Dan’s lap while grabbing hold of both of his wrists with a triumphant grin.

It seemed that they’d reached a stalemate, but Dan wasn’t ready to surrender. He placed an open-mouthed kiss on Phil’s neck, below under his jaw and began sucking a the area of skin.

“Hey, stop it!” Phil said, releasing Dan’s hands to shove his face away. “We’ve got a baking video to film yet this week.” Dan relented, not wanting to delay their filming schedule, and instead wrapped his arms around Phil’s waist. They paused for a moment, and Dan wondered if Phil was as interested in taking advantage of their current position as he was. Then, Phil pushed Dan’s fringe back away from his eye and leaned in for a proper kiss on the mouth, answering Dan’s unspoken question.

Phil’s fingers clutched at Dan’s hair as Dan gently poked his tongue between Phil’s lips. As they continued to kiss, Phil pressed his hips forward, grinding into Dan.

Excitement pooled in Dan’s stomach, and he felt himself beginning to get hard.

They pulled back, and their noses brushed together as the kiss ended. Phil stood up, grabbing Dan’s hand and pulling him up as well. He led him out of the room, no doubt toward their bedroom. They left their empty bowls behind, a forgotten problem for another time.

 

Dan was startled back to reality by his nurse entering his room. He’d returned to do yet another neurological assessment. When he was asked to open his eyes, Dan did try like he always did, but he couldn’t help but wonder if maybe he just wasn’t trying hard enough.

He was no longer entirely sure that he wanted to wake up. The reasoning behind that sentiment was a complex puzzle with many angles to consider, but Dan had no ideas on how to solve it.

When the nurse poked his arm, it did not flinch like it had previously. He was regressing.

“Crap,” the nurse  muttered. Was his name Kyle? Dan couldn’t remember. Maybe-Kyle rushed to the door and shouted “Somebody page the neurology team!” into the hallway.

Dan’s head felt as though someone was squeezing it, and it was incredibly painful. It was difficult to focus on what was happening, but he tried, sensing that it was important.

Minutes later, several other people entered the room. A vaguely familiar male voice questioned the nurse. He’d been there during the seizure, Dan remembered. Several people were talking at once, and Dan couldn’t focus in on what they were each saying.

“We need to place an intraventricular catheter stat,” the doctor ordered, shouting over the other voices. “Is there an OR open or do we need to do it here?”

Dan knew that he should be panicking, but his thoughts were jumbled, his mind cloudy. He could hardly process the words he was hearing, let alone react to them. 

“Three is open!” a woman’s voice answered. “I’m reserving it right now.”

“Let’s roll!”

 

Suddenly, Dan was no longer in his hospital bed. He was stood in a brightly lit open space. The light hurt his eyes, but the pain in his head felt greatly diminished. He turned around, trying to ascertain his whereabouts, but stopped short when he saw Phil standing in front of him.

“Phil!” he exclaimed, running forward and throwing his arms around Phil’s shoulders. Phil returned the embrace. Dan realized that he was still wearing his awful hospital gown with the open back, but he didn’t care. Phil was there, and that was all that mattered. “I’ve missed you so much,” he added.

Dan pulled away slightly so that he could kiss Phil. His lips were as soft as ever, and he kissed Dan back gently, reaching up to run his fingers through Dan’s hair. It was not unlike their very first kiss on the Manchester wheel all those years ago.

Just as Dan began to let his hands trail down Phil’s chest and moved to deepen their kiss, Phil pulled away. “I’ve missed you too,” he said. “Let’s go for a walk.”

Phil reached for Dan’s right hand with his left, and they began walking together. Dan guessed that they must have something important to discuss if Phil was giving up kissing for walking.

“Are we in Manchester?” Dan asked, examining their surroundings properly for the first time. They were on the platform of a train station, just without all of the bustling people or the trains, for that matter. The glass ceiling and round columns with green trim told him that it was Manchester Piccadilly.

“Yeah, we must be,” Phil answered. “See that bench there?” He pointed to indicate which of the many benched he was referring to. “That’s where I waited for you the first time you came to see me.”

For Dan, that train station had always been a place of disheartening goodbyes whenever he had to leave Phil and return home.  He’d never thought about Phil spending time there waiting to see him again, filled with excitement and anticipation. For Phil, it must be a place for goodbyes, but also for happy reunions.

“Am I dreaming?” Dan wondered aloud. But it didn’t feel like a dream. And questioning its reality did nothing to change the scene like it had the last time he’d dreamt of Phil.

“Does it feel that way?” Phil seemed genuinely curious, as if being there might feel different to him.

“No,” Dan acknowledged. “Then why am I here? What’s going on?”

“I think you’re here because you have a choice to make.”

So this was about what Maggie had said. It was about choosing to wake up or not.

“And you’re just a figment of my imagination that my brain conjured up to help me make a decision?”

“Maybe,” said Phil. Dan brushed his thumb along the back of Phil’s hand. He could feel the texture of his skin and the gentle rhythm of Phil’s pulse in this fingertips. Phil was far too detailed, far too real to be a spectre projected by his subconscious.

“So I’ve got to decide whether I live or die?”

Phil looked down at his feet sheepishly. That was a yes, then.

“What do you think I should do?” Dan asked.

“It’s not about what I want, Dan. What do _you_ want?”

“I want to be with you,” Dan answered resolutely. Phil sighed, clearly not impressed with that answer.

“But what else? There’s so much more that you want to do with your life, I know there is. Like whenever we would make a baking video for my channel, you would always say that you wanted to make a cooking video some day. Things like that.”

Dan had spent so much time over the last two days focused completely on Phil that he had forgotten about the little things like that.

“I guess there are a lot of videos that I still want to make, and places that I want to visit.” Dan admitted. “And I do want to come out online at some point. I don’t want to feel like I’m trying to hide something that important forever.” He had always planned to tell the internet about his bisexuality someday, but it had never felt like a pressing issue. He’d had all the time in the world to plan it out and do it right. But now, his life no longer seemed so limitless. And now that he’d thought about it, he’d rather live openly and honestly.

“And you would be unhappy if you never got to do those things.”

Dan considered that idea for a moment. He realized that Phil was right.

“You can still do them.”

Obviously he could. He could choose to wake up and eventually return to his normal life. But Phil was forgetting one very important detail. Dan stopped walking forward and turned to face Phil, who also stopped and looked Dan in the eye.

“And we’ll do those things together?” Dan asked.

“Of course we will,” Phil promised, pulling Dan into another hug. Dan wrapped his arms around Phil’s back and clutched at the fabric of his shirt. Relief washed over him. Ultimately, he wanted to continue his life no matter what. It was simply an easier choice to make knowing that Phil would be there too.

“Okay then,” Dan whispered.

“It sounds like you’ve made a decision.”

They remained locked in their embrace for a few moments, neither one quite ready to let go. Then Phil’s hands shifted down from Dan’s shoulders, and he pulled away slightly. Dan opened his eyes to see Phil looking up at him with tear-stained cheeks. A gut-wrenching instinct told him that they were not tears of joy.

“What’s wrong? I’m going back. You’re coming with me.”

“We don't have much time,” Phil explained. “I know that deep down, you want to go back. And I’m happy for you,” he said with a smile.

Dan noticed that the scene around them was melting away. The walls and pillars of the train station became increasingly bright until Dan could no longer see them at all. He felt his heart race with panic. His darting eyes were brought back to Phil, who had just placed his hands on either side of Dan’s face.

“I love you. And…” Phil paused to search for the right words. Or maybe because he couldn’t bear to say the words he’d planned to say. “And I’ll always be with you,” he finished.

Dan’s eyes widened. The realization was crippling. Phil wasn’t stumbling over words to explain what was happening. He was struggling to say goodbye.

Dan opened his mouth to scream in protest, but before he could curse the injustice of the universe or insist that it couldn’t be true, his eyes snapped open.

The speckled ceiling of his hospital room was all that greeted him. The room was dark. He blinked and squinted, trying to make his eyes adjust. Several hours must have passed, as it had been late afternoon when he was last aware of his actual surroundings.

_No no no no no no no._ This wasn’t what he’d wanted. He couldn’t be awake. Not without Phil.

The beeping monitor was keeping time with Dan’s racing heart. He tried to take a deep breath, but that was made impossible by the tube down his throat. The upper portions of the walls were within his field of vision, but it was nighttime, and the fluorescent lights in the ceiling were turned off.

_It can’t be true. I was only dreaming._ But it hadn’t felt like a dream. The details were crisp and clear. The progression was logical. No, it was nothing like his usual dreams.

Dan wondered how long he would have to wait for someone to notice that he was awake. He also wondered if it would be possible to fall back into his coma. But he didn't waste much hope on that prospect.

He was awake. And Phil was gone.

The truth was utterly devastating. Tears filled his eyes, blurring his vision. They were just beginning to run down the sides of his face when the door swung open, admitting a swathe of light from the hallway as Maggie entered the room.

“Daniel, you’re heart rate’s…” She stopped mid sentence and gasped when she made eye contact with him. She looked almost exactly how Dan had pictured her. Maggie was a short, slim old woman with dark blue eyes, thin lips, and a puff of curly grey hair on her head. “You’re awake!” she said once she’d gotten over the shock.

Maggie stepped closer to him and placed her hand gently on his uninjured left shoulder. “Try not to panic; you were in an accident and you’re in the hospital,” she explained unnecessarily. “My name is Maggie, and I’m your nurse tonight.” He wanted to tell her that he knew that, that he knew her. But it wasn’t important.

She glanced over at the monitors and seemed pleased with what she saw.

“There’s no need for tears, love. I know that this tube is probably uncomfortable, but we can’t take it out just yet. Just try to relax and let the machine breathe for you. Do you understand? Blink once for yes, twice for no.”

He blinked once.

“Is something else the matter?”

Another blink.

“What’s wrong Daniel, are you in pain?”

He blinked twice. The dull ache in his head was still present, but that was hardly the problem.

“Okay, that’s good. We’ll try to sort this out in a bit, but I need to page the on-call neurologist and your attending physician and let them know that you’re awake. I’ll be back shortly.”

The agony was like nothing he’d ever felt before. It was a tightness in his chest that radiated down his arms. He felt like it could crush him at any moment. It made him want to curl into a ball and forget that the rest of the world had ever existed. Without Phil, everything was meaningless.

Eventually, he ran out of tears, and sobbing turned to numbness.

Maggie returned with a younger woman wearing scrubs and a white coat. The neurologist, who introduced herself as Dr. Batra, had come to examine his brain function. He blinked his eyes in response to her commands, and was even able to squeeze her hand slightly. She praised his progress, but the words were hollow to Dan.

“His ABGs are good, so let’s start weaning him off of the vent,” Dr. Batra said to Maggie. “We’ll have this tube out in three or four hours,” she said to Dan. “Now, Maggie tells me that you were quite upset when you first woke up.”

Dan blinked once to tell her ‘yes’.

“Rather than us guessing what’s wrong, I wonder if you might be able to write it down?” She took a small notepad and pen from her coat pocket, and placed them near Dan’s left hand.

He managed to pick up the pen, even thought that task was more difficult than it had ever been in his life. His muscles obeyed his brain, but they were lethargic about it. What could he write to explain what was wrong? How could he ever convey the pain he felt in only a few words? Finally, he put the pen to the paper and scrawled the only thing he could think of, P-h-i-l.

“Phil,” Dr. Batra read. “Any ideas?” she asked, looking to Maggie. But the nurse shook her head.

“Let’s have a look at the accident report,” Maggie suggested. They stepped outside of his room, but left the door slightly ajar.

There were typing sounds followed by Dr. Batra’s voice. “There were two vehicles and four individuals involved. The lorry driver was unharmed, the driver of the car was given stitches and treated for whiplash in A&E, but his name wasn’t Phil.”

“The fourth person, then?” Maggie asked.

“The fourth man was DOA,” Dr. Batra said quietly. Somewhere in the back of his head, Dan knew that the acronym DOA stood for dead on arrival. And just like that, his last sliver of hope was obliterated.

They walked away, most likely unaware that Dan had overheard.

The clock on the wall read 00:52 when Maggie and Dr. Batra returned to remove the breathing tube. The extraction left Dan’s throat feeling sore, and his voice was hoarse when he tried to mutter ‘thank you’.

After Dr. Batra left the room, Maggie sat down on the edge of Dan’s bed. He sat up to face her.

“Phil didn’t make it,” she said softly. “But you already knew that, didn’t you?”

Dan nodded ‘yes’ and clamped his eyes shut, trying to fight back a new stream of tears.

Maggie leaned forward and wrapped her arms gently around Dan’s torso. He leaned against her small shoulder and sobbed.

“It’s alright, you just cry. I think you need it,” she added, rubbing small circles on his back.

But what he needed was Phil. He needed Phil like he needed air in his lungs. He missed him like he missed the summer sun in the dead of winter, only a thousand times worse. He hopelessly longed for the warmth was no more. The light had gone out of his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Check out the art of the train station scene by [philslesters](http://philslesters.tumblr.com/) [here](http://philslesters.tumblr.com/post/131045963364/art-for-thechroniclesofawallflowers-amazing-fic)!


	5. Chapter 5

It had been nearly a week since Dan had woken up from his coma. The drain that had been surgically implanted in his head that day had already been removed. He’d been working hard with his physical therapists since he’d been moved out of the ICU, and he had regained almost all of his strength. In fact, Dan was being discharged from the hospital sometime in the next few days.

His room had been empty of visitors all day, and it was nearing mid afternoon, which was highly unusual. Now that he was allowed more than one visitor at a time, his parents spent most days at his bedside doing their best to comfort him. Phil’s family had also come to see him several times. But today they were all otherwise occupied, because today was Phil’s funeral.

Dan’s parents had decided for whatever reason that they ought to go in his place, even though they barely knew Phil. Dan wasn’t well enough to travel, but even if he could, he doubted that he could have brought himself to attend the service. He wasn’t ready to say goodbye, especially not in such a public way. Phil’s loss was deeply personal to Dan. He latched on to his grief and kept it hidden inside. He wasn’t ready to share it with others.

There was a knock at his door. The hospital staff had taken to knocking since he’d become conscious again. “Come in,” he said.

“Hello Daniel,” greeted Maggie as she stepped into the room. Dan hadn’t seen her since he’d been transferred off of her floor a day and a half after he’d woken up.

“Maggie, what are you doing here?” he asked. Maggie worked the night shift, so it seemed odd that she was there during the day. She was also wearing a green jumper and jeans in place of her scrubs.

“Well, I had a few days off, and I thought I would just pop in and see how you’re getting on.”

“Oh, that’s... very kind of you,” Dan said, struck by the strangeness of being able to coherently reply to Maggie and have a real conversation with her for the first time. He noticed in the clarity of daylight that her kind eyes were actually green rather than the blue he’d imagined. “I’m doing well, I guess. They’re sending me home soon,” he added.

“Well I’m glad to hear that, Daniel!” she said, taking a seat in the chair to the right of his bed.

Dan cringed after hearing his formal name once again. He debated whether or not it would be polite to correct her, and eventually decided that she probably wouldn’t be offended. “Everyone calls me Dan, actually.”

“I did wonder if that might be the case. I’m sorry Dan,” Maggie said. “I do quite like the name Daniel, though.”

“You also said that if I didn’t, I would have to wake up and correct you,” Dan recalled from the first time he’d met the nurse. Her eyes widened in surprise.

“That’s right, I did say that. What else do you remember, may I ask?”

“Everything. I could always hear you talking to me, ever since the first night. You talked about what had happened to me, and what the doctors were saying. You also told me about your husband and your grandchildren. And the gathering of girls outside the hospital.”

Maggie moved her hand to cover her gaping mouth. “My heavens,” she muttered in amazement.

“Right before I woke up, I remember the doctors being very concerned, and rushing me to surgery. That was when they put the drain in, right?” Dan was still trying to piece together what had really happened the night he woken up, the night he spoke to Phil in the train station.

“Yes, but that was probably about four hours before you woke up,” Maggie corrected him.

Had he spent that long in surgery? That seemed unlikely, though the surgical lamps would explain why the train station seemed so bright.

“Come to think of it, I didn’t see any hoards of teenage girls on my way in, that was a bit of a change,” Maggie commented, filling the silence.

“No, I asked them to go home yesterday, and they apparently listened, which is nice.” Dan’s mum had brought him is laptop and a few changes of clothes the previous day. It was nice to not have to wear the paper hospital gowns anymore, and having an internet connection again was even better. Even with plenty of visitors, hospitals could be incredibly boring. The first thing he did was write a tweet directed to the people loitering outside the hospital. He told them that he appreciated the gesture, but that he would appreciate it more if they would kindly disband their vigil.   

But being on twitter again had made Dan sick to his stomach. All of his mentions and at replies were fans and fellow youtubers offering their condolences and lamenting the loss of Phil. At least he hadn’t had to announce Phil’s death online. No, Phil’s brother Martyn had done that while Dan was still in his coma. But reading everyone’s reactions was like pouring salt into an open wound. He’d been avoiding social media every since.

“So, no other visitors today? I thought I might have to wait my turn now that you’re awake.”

“They’re… busy today,” he explained vaguely. She gave him a quizzical look, but did not press the issue further. “It’s… well, Phil’s funeral was this morning.”

“Oh, I see.”

Dan chewed on his lower lip, unsure of what else to say.

“If you don’t mind me asking, who was Phil to you?” _Everything_ , he wanted to say.

“He’s… he was my boyfriend.” Dan told her, struggling to put Phil into the past tense.

“I thought so,” Maggie said with a small smile. Dan was incredibly relieved that she’d taken that revelation so well. “Would you mind telling me a bit about him?” she asked.

Dan paused to collect his thoughts. How could he possible condense Phil into just a few sentences?

“Phil was… funny and adorable,” Dan began. “He was always trying to make everyone else smile. He loved nerdy things like video games and Buffy the Vampire Slayer. And he hated cheese, which I never understood. He is… he _was_ such a dork. He was incredibly creative and selfless. He just genuinely loved life, you know?”

Dan paused again, unsure of how much he should say. But Maggie simply smiled once more and waited for him to continue.

“I fell in love with him suddenly and completely. Even though he was so stubborn and always left the cupboard door wide open. And... god, I miss him so much.”

“I can see why. He sounds wonderful. I’m very sorry for your loss, Dan.”

A brief silence followed, as Dan had run out of things to say to such sentiments days ago.

“There’s one other thing that I wanted to ask you about,” said Maggie. Dan nodded, giving her permission to continue. “How did you know that Phil had died? I asked your parents that evening you woken up if they’d told you, but they said no one had. They didn’t want to upset you.”

Dan hesitated for a moment. The truth would certainly seem preposterous to any rational person, so he considered admitting that he’d overheard Maggie and Dr. Batra in the hallway. He could claim that that was when he’d found out. Except that wouldn’t explain why he was crying the moment he woke up. Maybe the truth was the best option.

“This is going to sound crazy,” he began, “but I spoke to Phil in a dream or something. He sort of talked me into waking up I guess. And then he basically said goodbye right before I actually woke up, and I just sort of knew that he was gone. I mean, I know that it wasn’t real, it was just in my head, but…”

“Why should that mean it wasn’t real?” she asked. Dan stared at her and wondered whether she had any idea that they’d basically just paraphrased a scene from the last Harry Potter book. It also sounded remarkably like something Phil would say. “I’m not a particularly religious woman, but I do believe that there are things about the world that we don’t yet understand.”

Dan nodded in agreement. Maggie left soon after, and Dan spent the rest of the day wondering if Phil had truly spoken to him somehow, or if he’d simply been a projection of the part of Dan that wasn’t ready to die. He realized that this question might haunt him forever, and also that he would probably never know the answer.

The following day, Dan’s doctor’s called a “family meeting” to discuss Dan’s discharge plans. Present were a few of the doctors and residents from the neurology team, including Dr. Batra, Dan’s parents, and also Phil’s mum, for some reason. Dan’s neuromuscular control was almost back to normal, but he still felt fatigued and dizzy after standing or walking for long periods of time. The neurologists decided that he’d progressed enough to go home rather than to a rehab facility, but they insisted that someone needed to stay with him.

It was quickly apparent that this was going to be a problem. His parents, unable to take much more time off work to stay with him in London, advocated for Dan staying with them in Reading for the time being. But Dan was concerned about returning to London multiple times a week for his outpatient physical therapy appointments, as well as his follow up medical appointments. Dr. Batra agreed, and added that excess traveling was probably not the best idea.

There was talk of finding a local physical therapist, and Dan’s face continued to sour. Returning to his parent’s house simply wasn’t his idea of going home anymore. He wondered if maybe he could con Louise into staying with him for a bit, but said nothing of that idea. Finally, Catherine Lester spoke up.

“I can stay with Dan here in London, if that would make things easier,” she offered. Dan’s mum protested that it really wasn’t necessary, and that she could look after her own son. But Mrs. Lester persisted. “Really Jane, it’s no trouble. We’re retired, and I’m in no hurry to head home just yet.”

The chief neurologist endorsed the plan, adding that it really would be best if Dan remained close by for at least a few weeks in case of any complications. Dr. Batra asked for Dan’s opinion on the matter, and he admitted that he’d rather stay in London.

Once they’d settled on a plan, the room began to empty, but Dr. Batra stayed behind to speak to Dan privately. “I’m very glad to see you doing so well, Dan. You’re progress has been truly amazing. Most patients with the sort of traumatic brain injury that you sustained never regain this amount of function.”

Dan nodded, unsure of what to say. He’d certainly been dealt an unfairly large portion of luck in his life, but from his current vantage point, he struggled to see what the point of it all was.

“Best of luck to you,” Dr. Batra said with a smile before turning to leave the room. Dan almost asked her what exactly she meant by that, but he knew that it was just something people say.

The next day, Dan left the hospital. He said goodbye to his parents and returned home, accompanied by Phil’s mum. The cab ride was surreal. Dan felt on edge the entire time, but he tried not to give into the fear, or else he might never be able to leave the house again.

As they walked up the first flight of stairs, Dan shuddered to think what would have happened if he’d broken his leg instead of his clavicle. Their flat with it’s many flights of stairs would be impossible with a leg injury. He thought about the time Phil had sprained his ankle a few years back and had taken to sliding up and down the stairs while sat on his butt for a few days. It was amazing how everything in the apartment was a reminder of Phil, even the stairs.

Dan stepped into the bathroom for a moment, and was able to see his reflection in a proper mirror for the first time since the accident. A square gauze bandage was taped to his head where the drain had been inserted, about midway back on the top right portion of his skull. They’d shaved a quarter of his hair off in preparation for the procedure.

“It’s just hair, Dan. It’ll grow back,” Phil’s mum reminded him. Despite all that had happened, she seemed remarkably like herself. Dan wondered if maybe she was just the sort of person that keeps their grief bottled up inside. She was right about the hair, of course. He could already feel the regrowth poking out from his skin. Thankfully, he owned a few beanies that he could wear in the meantime.

His hair straighteners were still on the bathroom counter. They’d been in such a rush that afternoon that he’d neglected to put them away. There were bound to be dirty dishes piled in the sink as well, Dan realized with a cringe.

In the main hallway, Mrs. Lester walked straight to Dan’s bedroom door to put away her bags. Dan must have given her a funny look, because she turned to him and said, “I know which is the spare bedroom in this house, Dan.”

Dan couldn’t help but blush at the comment, even though he knew that it was really nothing to be ashamed of. He ducked into the kitchen, deciding that it would be better to tackle the dirty dishes sooner rather than later. To his surprise, the sink was empty. Had Phil washed them that day without Dan realizing? It was possible.

On closer inspection, he noticed a lime green sticky note on the counter that read:

           Washed your dishes and left a chicken and rice casserole and some of grandma’s

           vegetable soup in the fridge.

                       Love,

                       Mum

He didn’t always get along with his mum, but she had her moments. And he knew that she really did care.

Dan took his laptop into the lounge, determined to continue sorting through the mountain of emails that had piled up on him. He sat down in his sofa crease, and noticed that Phil’s sticker-covered MacBook was still balanced on the far arm. The reminders were everywhere.

“You need to drink some water,” Mrs. Lester said, setting a glass of water down on the table in front of him. He hadn’t heard her enter the room, and she’d startled him a bit. She sat down on the other end of the couch in the exact spot where Phil usually sat.

“Thanks,” he said, silently skeptical that hydration would do anything to help with the sort of constant headache that he had.

“You body had to replace all of the cerebrospinal fluid that they drained off now that the swelling has gone down. So you really do need to keep hydrated.” Dan looked over at her and wrinkled his eyebrows. “I did a bit of research,” she explained. Dan drank at least half of the water right away to appease her.

“Is it strange being back here again?” she asked after a stretch of awkward silence.

“Yeah, it is,” Dan admitted. “He’d everywhere, you know?” He gestured to Phil’s laptop, and to a pair of Phil’s shoes that were sat inexplicable in the corner near the door.

“I think it’s good to be surrounded by happy memories.”

Dan nodded in agreement. Maybe that was what Phil had meant about always being with him.  “But I’m afraid that it will make it difficult to move forward,” he added. “I’ve basically lived with Phil my entire adult life. I’ve never lived alone. And it’s not that I won’t be able to, but it’ll just be… different.”

“You’ll just have to start doing more of everything for yourself.”

He knew that she probably meant that he would now have to physically complete tasks that he had previously split with Phil like cooking and doing laundry, but Dan also found another meaning to her words. His motivation for doing anything was going to have to change as well. Instead of doing things for Phil or for the both of them, he would now have to do them for himself.

It wasn’t so much that he had to find a way to live without Phil, but rather that he needed to find a way to live _for himself_. That was what Phil had tried to make him realize but reminding him of all of the things that Dan still wanted to do with his life. He had to start living for himself without feeling so afraid of going on without Phil. And maybe it could start with something as simple as facing the internet again.

He was pleasantly surprised by what he found on twitter. #thankyouphil was trending worldwide, and it was filled with lovely messages from people thanking Phil for the joy he’d brought to their lives in various ways.

He told Phil’s mum what he’d found, and he read her a few of the best ones.

_#thankyouphil for always making me smile, even on my darkest of days_

_For all the laughs, the relatable embarrassing stories, and the dessert recipes, #thankyouphil_

_#thankyouphil for being one of the most creative and inspiring people i’ve ever known_

Dan spent a great deal of time composing his own tweet.

_For changing my life, and for six amazing years, #thankyouphil_

After all, it was their anniversary in a few short weeks.

Someday soon, Dan would have to return to making videos, and he would have to make difficult decisions like what to do with their gaming channel, and whether to cancel their tour or just postpone some of the dates. But for now, he could just focus on honoring Phil’s memory and saying thank you. Because it was much easier to say thank you than it was to say goodbye.

Dan thought about all of the hours of video that he had of Phil, both on the internet and in hundreds of unedited clips scattered throughout their computers and phones. He was struck by the realization that he would never have to worry about forgetting Phil’s mannerisms or the sound of his voice.

Perhaps the light in his life had not gone out after all. Phil had once been a beacon, shining so bright at times that it was difficult to imagine a world beyond his rays. Now he was a flicker, blinking at Dan like a distant star twinkling in the night sky. The light remained, offering comfort and guidance whenever the way forward seemed unclear.   


	6. Chapter 6

**Epilogue – Phil is not on fire 7**

_Four weeks later_

 

Dan clicked play on the video he’d been editing, wanting to make sure that everything was perfect before he exported the file from Final Cut.

“Hello internet, this video is going to be a bit different.” He wore a black long-sleeve t-shirt and a black beanie to hide his uneven hair.

“For any of you that might not know, Phil is not on fire is a video series that Phil and I started on his channel back in 2009. Basically, around this time every year we answered questions and did ridiculous dares with cat whiskers drawn on our faces.” Here he realized his glaring lack of cat whiskers, which was unacceptable. “I knew I was forgetting something, hold on.” He walked out of shot in search of his sharpie, or catfacepen as he’d called it when he was still a teenager. There was a jumpcut, and Dan had returned to his seat with his cat whiskers drawn on.

“So like I was saying, this year’s Phil is not on fire is going to be a bit different for many reasons. But I think it’s important to continue the tradition nonetheless. What I’m about to show you are clips of Phil is not on fire’s from past years that we’ve have to edit out. Phil saved them in a file on our iMac because he hoped to be able to share them with all of you one day. The other day, I was working on a video that I filmed before the accident, and this file was just… staring me in the face. I knew that if I was ever going to share these clips publically that it would be better to do it now rather than later. Anyways, here are a few of my favorite outtakes from Phil is not on fire 1 through 6.”

 

“Give each other names based on what you look like,” Phil said with a giggle. “You are definitely a… Winston?”

“Winston? Really?” Dan retorted. “Winston?” he asked again, this time looking into the camera. Turning back toward Phil, he added, “You’re the worst boyfriend in the entire world.”

“Why? I’ve always wanted a friend called Winston,” Phil explained.

 

“How do you even put this on?” Phil asked, turning Dan’s leather t-shirt in his hands.

“With great difficulty.”

“Ugh fine,” Phil said, standing up and removing his own shirt. He sat back down on the other side of Dan and managed to get his head and one arm into the leather monstrosity. Dan apparently found the spectacle hilarious, and was laughing his head off. “Is this turning you on?” Phil turned and asked Dan. “I feel like I’m giving birth backwards,” he said to the camera.

 

“A dan-sized pea or a pea-sized Dan?” Dan asked.

“A pea-sized Dan? Can you imagine eating that? It would be huge!”

“No, no that would be _a dan-sized pea_.”

“Oh!”

Dan laughed and rolled his eyes sarcastically saying, “oh ho ho… I’m Phil everybody.”

“A pea-sized Dan would be adorable actually,” Phil added after their laughter had subsided.

“Would you still love me if I was pea-sized?”

“Of course I would! I would carry you around in my pocket.”

“D’aww,” Dan said, leaning his head against Phil’s shoulder.

 

“Bouncy, bouncy, bounce…” Dan said as he jumped on the bed, his shorts gradually slipping off of his hips.

“Get off my bed! Get off…” There was an audible thwack as Dan hit his head on the ceiling.

“Ow!” said Dan.

“Oh,” Phil gasped, covering his mouth with his hand. “Are you okay?” he asked. “You’re not bleeding at least,” he assessed, pulling back Dan’s hood slightly and feeling through his hair for the bump.

“No, it’ll be fine.”

“Do you want me to kiss it and make it better?” Phil asked. Dan gave Phil an exaggerated pout and nodded yes.

 

“Noooooo!” Dan said dramatically at the end of their Titanic reenactment. Phil laughed as she shuffled back into frame. “Was I better than Kate Winslet?” Dan asked.

“Infinitely,” Phil declared, kneeling beside the bed. He leaned forward and pecked a kiss on Dan’s forehead, then another on the tip on his nose. He recoiled immediately, realizing his mistake.

“Bleh, sharpie taste!” he exclaimed. Dan threw his head back and laughed.

 

“This was the most fun I’ve ever had,” Dan said. Phil smirked mischievously at the camera before tackling Dan to the floor.

Dan gasped in surprised, but the sound transformed into a playful giggle as the hit the floor and he realized what had happened. He turned his head and reached his hand up to clutch at the back of Phil’s neck and pull him closer.

 

After a final jumpcut, present-day Dan reappeared. “So yeah, Phil and I have been together from the start. He wanted to tell you all a long time ago; it was me that wasn’t ready.”

Dan looked away from the camera, and there was another jump cut.

“I haven’t been particularly public about my grief since losing Phil. That’s because grieving for Phil as only my best friend felt like a deceit to his memory. Grieving my best friend was a lie of omission, because I was also grieving the love of my life, the adventures that should have filled our future, the children we’ll never have…”

Dan looked down for a moment, and then continued. “For me, it would feel like a betrayal to not show you a bit of what our relationship was actually like, especially when he wanted you all to know long before now. I hope that makes sense.”

“I’m not sure what I’ll do for these Phil is not on fire videos in future years, but I do plan to continue them here on my channel. Maybe they’ll be a way for us to take some time to remember Phil together. I think that would be nice.

“Thank you for watching. Bye internet.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed this angst-fest. :)
> 
> Feel free to leave a comment and tell me what you liked or didn't like or to ask any questions you might have. 
> 
> I'm [wallflowerchronicles](http://wallflowerchronicles.tumblr.com/) on tumblr if you would like to come say hi over there.


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